The Aleutian Sparrows
by streetpanther
Summary: (R Rating(I have changed around my idea for this story; forgive me)Dallas Winston is visited by a girl who tells Dally a very important secret that will change his life, and the lives of others...
1. Sorrow

**Aleutian Sparrow**

**A/N: This story is all about Dallas Winston and his life; I'm going to go through his entire life and I'm not going to have him die like he does in the book because I love him too much and he is my gallant hero!** **I'm going to start this off with a short poem that I wrote about a friend of mine named West who reminds me of Dallas Winston in A LOT of ways, so here goes!**

**Dedication: Andrew "West" Weston**

**Narrator's Point of View**

**The boy that I love with his cold, blue eyes**

**The boy that I love with his casual lies**

**The child in confusion**

**Never known to do right**

**My strong, gallant panther with hair of blond-white**

Dallas Winston didn't want to die gallant because even though he knew the definition of the word, he hadn't wanted to die gallantly. The only way he had wanted to die was alone, or so he had thought before.

Visions of Dallas bleeding to death with slit wrists warmed him at night as he reminded himself that he had one less day to live on earth; one less day for his father to beat him and one less day of trying to remember the scant breath of his mother and her kindly love for the young boy.

And although Dally -as his mother had called him- was just nine years old, he could still remember his mother perfectly. The other children of the neighborhood had referred to her as the two-dollar whore, but Dally knew better than that. His mother had really and truly loved him with all of her heart and Dally had known that fact, and it was the only thing that kept him from committing suicide like he so dearly wished to do.

Whenever he stood at the edge of the public pool he saw himself peacefully floating, dead in the water and that vision would always help him through the day. 'One less day, Dallas,' he would remind himself again and again until he felt the need to cry out in joy, but he wasn't going to cry; crying didn't help the pain, it only made life more of a burden for Dally to drown in his sorrows, which was most likely why he rarely drank booze.

There was no doubt in any of the neighbors minds however that Dallas was a good kid with bad ideas; he certainly wasn't like any of the other children in the neighborhood. He didn't cry, he didn't drink (although he did smoke and swear,) he fought but only when offended and although his honesty tended to more often than not offend people, he still never told a lie unless it was to protect a friend.

He hadn't a care in the world as to whether or not his honesty hurt a person's feelings because his mother had always told him to be honest except in a bad situation, so he was going to comply with that wish, as well as her wish for him to not dye his hair black.

Dallas absolutely hated the idea of himself being a tow-headed youth, but his mother had had the same beautiful, blond-white hair and Dally swore to her that he wouldn't go trying to turn his hair black with the ink that his father had once kept in his night-stand alongside a bottle of wine that Dally had stolen a week after his mother's funeral and had gotten extremely drunk, for the first time in his entire lifetime. His mother hadn't told him he couldn't get drunk, and she had also not said that Dally could run away from home...


	2. Memories

**Fragile-Ego: Thanks a lot! I thought my summary was sort of lame, but I like Dally a lot, so this is for him! Thanks for reviewing my fics.**

**Cinderbrat: Will do! Yeah, I'm working on all of my other stories, but I've written so many of them that it's slightly overwhelming, lol.**

**Kairyuu-kun: No problem, I love your stories, they rock! Yeah, but this story is definitely going to change so that Dally already knows about how Johnny and himself will die so that he can stop it!**

**Sarah126: Thanks! I shall indeed continue it!**

**Vripter: Yeah, this story is going to change for the best! Keep reviewing and thanks for the rocking' review! I also love Dallas and he and the Motorcycleboy are my favorite S.E. Hinton characters; they rock!**

Aleutian Sparrow 

**Disclaimer: Despite rumors, I DO own Dallas Winston! Alright, I give in, I own no one except for JC and any other assholes you've never seen in any books by S.E. Hinton, alright?**

**A/N: Thank you to my reviewers; I'm going to update on all of my stories soon, but I'm actually writing a book and I am being given a deadline by my publisher so I have to work on that, but in my spare time I have been writing long and tedious chapters for each of my fan fictions! I'm also sorry that the first chapter of this story was so short; I'm going to make it up to all of you however, somehow! Love you all.**

**Dedication: Tonyboy, for a real long review you wrote for a story of mine.**

Narrator's Point of View 

**We all knew your mom as the two-dollar whore**

**She dumped you off at your old man's door**

**It didn't help matters**

**It doomed her to die**

**You stood at her grave**

**But you didn't cry**

**Aleutian Sparrow**

**Fly away…**

**Aleutian Sparrow**

**Doomed away…**

Dallas let a yawn escape between his lips as he sat up in bed; it was time to leave and to never come back.

Dallas knew he couldn't stay in this place for much longer without committing suicide and he really didn't want his life to end. He had done some serious thinking and he had decided that he wasn't the one making him suffer; his father was, with his beatings from drunken rage.

Dallas had just decided that he wasn't going to kill himself, just everyone else around him that had made his life a living hell, but first he was leaving this place…

He grabbed up his suitcase and put in three pairs of blue jeans, three white tee shirts, an Elvis record, his cowboy boots and fifty bucks that his mother had been saving up for Dallas's college fund, although he doubted that he was even going to graduate the fourth grade.

Dallas pulled a black tee shirt over his head and slipped into his oldest blue jeans before putting on his Converses and his brown leather jacket; the last gift his father had given him, before mom had died…

The clock on the wall struck one o' clock and Dallas knew that he was right on schedule. He grabbed up his bag but quickly observed that he had forgotten his cigarettes and also threw them into the bag before creeping into the hallway and passed his father's room.

He had nearly reached the front door when he paused and went to the dresser in the lounge and felt around inside of the drawer because it was impossible to see in the darkness.

His fingers befell a cold and metal object and he pulled it out to discover that it wasn't what he had been looking for. It was a square object instead. Dally searched the other drawer for a flashlight and found it; he turned it on, holding it above the square, metal object and memories came flooding back.

Dallas stared into a black white picture of himself when he was six years old and he was sitting on his fathers lap, but his mother wasn't there, and to the right of Dallas and his father sat a grinning James Dean.

Dally could remember that moment perfectly; his father had once built cars and had helped build James Dean's silver Porsche 550 Spyder. Dean and his father had become fast friends. That photo had been taken just three weeks before James Dean's death and Dally felt a sadness at the thought that his father had helped build the car that Jimmy had died in; Jimmy had been a cool old dude and had starred in Dally's favorite movie, _Rebel Without a Cause_.

With a sigh, the youth gently placed the photograph into his bag and continued searching for the object he had originally been looking for and he found it. He set it on the ground and adjusted the light until it shined on his father's black, .22 pistol. Dally checked to see if it was loaded and found that no bullets were loaded to Dally's relief; he simply needed the gun as a bluff.

He heard his father coughing just then and immediately ran to the door, flung it open and launched himself onto the sidewalk before running off to the park eight blocks up. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder but to his joy, his father was not following. It was too bad for Dallas that his joy couldn't last long…

Dallas must've run for another five minutes or so before reaching the park. He remembered that he still had the gun in his hands and almost dropped it, but kept his hold on it. He had started to shove the gun, into his front pocket, when suddenly, he accidentally pulled the trigger. He felt a pain in his leg and the ground meeting him very quickly and everything turned black…


	3. Life and Death

Vripter: Well, your wish has come true! Here comes an update, and thanks for the ratings! I will attempt to win a five from you.

**Kairyuu-kun: Ya, ya, and more history to come! James Dean will also make an appearance in this chapter (yay!)**

Aleutian Sparrow 

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or any of the characters in the book and I also do not own James Dean to whom is the sexiest dead man ever, but I do own Airone.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I had eight days off so I had time to work on three chapters on my book and found some time to work on this! Also, if you can could you put in your reviews a dead famous person that you liked a lot and maybe I'll put them in this story!**

**Dedication: James Dean, for inspiring me to be a writer (James Dean is to me as Einstein is to a scholar!)**

Dallas's Point of View

I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
Don't know where it goes  
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
and I'm the only one and I walk alone…

When I woke up, everything was white. I found it rather difficult to open my eyes so I found my self closing them again and the next time I opened them, my view was normal again; well, almost normal…

There, looking down at me was Jimmy; James Dean, and I was sure that I was dead and in heaven for a minute there, but then again I remembered that I couldn't go to heaven, even if there was one, but I decided to make sure anyway:

"James," I began, making sure that I wasn't still dreaming. "Am I in heaven?" I asked the last part in a dead whisper. Nine years isn't exactly a long time on the earthy, even if I thought like an adult.

"Na, kid, you're not dead or anything like that." He said that with a grin that told me that he was laughing inside and after awhile the laughter came to the surface and his face broke out into a broad grin.

"I've got a lot of explaining to do with you, Dallykid." James said leaning back up. He looked the same as I could remember him, maybe a tad bit older, but not much, just about a year. A small stubble of blondish-brown beard covered his face and his eyes had dark circles under them like he hadn't slept in a while.

His golden-brown hair shimmered in the white light and his lively brown eyes twinkled with a youthful laughter. He was just as short as I had seen him before: only 5"8' and in his mid-twenties at a guess.

He was wearing blue denim jeans and brown cowboy boots with a white tee shirt and he looked just like the character he played in _Rebel Without A Cause_, only minus that red jacket. Usually he dressed in slacks and a sweater when he was just hanging around, but here he was looking just like everyone else in those clothes.

"Well, lets hear it then!" I said, pulling my covers away and inspecting the leg where I was shot, half expecting the bullet wound to have magically disappeared, proving that this was heaven, but instead my leg was good and bandaged up and I could finally feel the pain and it hurt like a bitch, but I couldn't complain.

"Alright then," he took me by the arms and hauled me up to my feet and I winced a bit but reluctantly took the crutches I was offered. "Just follow me, kid." He said, walking towards the only door in the walls of the white place.

When we reached the door, James was typing in something on this little plastic book thingy that was attached to the door, and when he was done, the door slid open. We walked out and walked down a long, narrow hallway made of metallic alloy of some kind, metals that were only ever used on Navy battleships.

"What is this place?" I almost whispered, looking around to flashing lights and many people rushing past, talking in whispers. It was all so very strange and it reminded me of one of those futuristic movies they played down at the local movie house.

"This is the headquarters to the Aleutian Sparrows." James answered simply, walking on. I didn't push him for more, but I soon found him continuing. "Their job is to save people of historic significance in order to prepare the world for a better tomorrow. In other words, anyone who impacted society but died a too-early death are transported here and made sure that they do not die."

That sounded amazing to me and I finally noticed with a shock who the people walking by me were; George Washington and Albert Einstein. Thomas Edison and Harriet Tubman were talking something over in two armchairs in what resembled a doctors waiting room. To my amazement, Buddy Holly was laughing at a joke Elvis Presley had just told. George Harrison and John Lennon were practicing a duet while Marylyn Monroe listened with vested interest.

"I didn't know Elvis was dead." I said, cocking one eyebrow up.

"Yeah, he died in the seventies, I think. Drug overdose." James commented, leading me to a door separate from the rest.

"Now, Dally," James was saying to me, "There are some things in here that you will not believe, but trust me, they're real." He told me as the door slid open. We both shuffled in and I looked around at what appeared to be a conference room, with a group of teenagers sitting around a table with semi-interested looks on their faces. Three of the people looked far beyond interested and were literally leaning forward in their chairs.

One of those three people was a boy who looked about fourteen years old with scared looking, blackish-brown eyes and black, greasy bangs covering his face and making him look like a sheep dog. His skin was a dark, olive tone and I noticed he had a long scar down his cheek and several burn scars across his bare arms. He smiled when he saw me, and it reminded me of a look a kid would give his long-lost, best friend.

The other of the three was another boy who looked to be in his late teens, about seventeen. He was towheaded and his hair stuck out in odd angles, similar to my own. His eyes were a cold, blue ice color that resembled mine as well and his facial features were curved and pointed, also similar to my own. In fact, he looked like me, only more mature and more colder. He had a red mark around his neck and it kind of scared me.

The last one was a girl with long, raven colored hair and a friendly but insane looking grin. Her blue eyes pierced into mine and she looked like a mad scientist who's plot was succeeding. She looked maybe a bit younger than James Dean did, but her smile appeared more playful and youthful than anything. Her skin was a light, bronze olive color and a small batch of freckles were splattered on her cheeks.

"This is Airone," James said, pointing to the girl with her insane smile. "She founded the Aleutian Sparrows. She's very quite fond of your work, Dally, and decided that you had her own significance in mind, enough for she and I in fact that we decided to save you from being shot to death."

Next he walked over to the boy who looked like an older clone of me and said, "This is Texas Winston, but we just call him Tex. Tex here, as you may have noticed or guessed, is related to you, but this is where things get weird." James had that look on again where he looked like he was laughing inside, his brown eyes lively dancing. "Well, Tex will be your son in eight years, but we can get into that later."

Then James turned to the boy with the greasy black hair and the puppy-dog eyes and smiled at the kid. The boy flashed an admiring grin at James and James said, "Umm… Well, this is Johnny Cade and he will be your best friend in two years, when you get out of jail and move to Tulsa. Johnny Cade, meet Dallas Winston."

Johnny gave me a curt nod but I could tell he was holding something or another in. he smiled for a moment, but just for a moment before he looked at me with pity in his eyes and a frown on his face as if he felt bad for me. Very suddenly though, I no longer just felt pain in my leg, a felt it all over; an ounce of it in the back of my neck, a whole hell of a lot of pain in my back and a few others that I didn't have the chance to feel before my world turned black for the second time and I realized one thing.

James had been serious when he said that I had been shot to death. That boy, Johnny, he must have died in a fire and that was why he had those burn marks still, and my 'son', Tex, he had hung himself. That was why he had that red mark around his neck. I really had been shot to death, and I was only just beginning to feel the pain, for bullet wounds were just the beginning…


End file.
